


I'm not who you think I am

by olivemartini



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Season 1, colliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: "I have to tell you," Connor says, and Oliver just sort of laughs.  It's not loud, but with how close they are, he's pretty sure that Connor could hear.  And it's not funny- it was just so predictable.  "I'm not who you think I am.""I know."  He wasn't that upset about it, but to be fair, Oliver still thinks it is going to be the normal kind of disappointing, something like I've got a boyfriend or two or maybe I'm in the middle of a bit of a gay crisis and this is just an experiment, just thought you should know, both of which have happened before.  "I kind of got that, with all the questions about he murder.  What, you a reporter?"Which, now that Oliver thinks about it, would be terrible and would also make it horribly illegal for him to have spilled the beans about the murder to him.But what he really says is much worse.





	I'm not who you think I am

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished binging season 4 and that gave me colliver feels. I tried to write something from the beginning of their relationship, so if the details are a little fuzzy or incorrect, it's just because I haven't watched the show in a while.

He knows it's a bad idea.

Knows it from the moment that Connor comes to talk to him in the bar ( _if you're friends want a show, just say the word and we can start making out_ ), knows it even more when he asks about the DA in a voice for it just too casual for it to be coincidence, knows it when Oliver finds himself spilling the details of the murder, none of which are actual details and entirely consist of office gossip, not that he would mention that to Connor.  He knows, standing there, that if Connor was just out for a hook up, he would not have gone for Oliver- not for the guy standing in the back of the group, not for the guy with the glasses who stutters when someone compliments him, and definitely not the guy who chokes out _me?_ when Connor asks if he could buy him a drink.

So he knows.

Knows that it's a bad idea, and that Connor doesn't really like him, and their entire interaction depends on how much information that Oliver can give him about the murdering secretery who may or may not have been having an affair with her boss and may or may not have killed him because he rejected her, so he tells him what he knows, even though half of it isn't true and Oliver is pretty sure that he could get in trouble with the police and his own boss for talking about it, but at the moment, he doesn't care.  He only cares about this guy,  _Connor,_ and the fact that all of his friends are standing at the bar and watching them, and Oliver can already tell that he won't be able to stomach it if Connor leaves him to walk back over there on his own after he inevitably loses interest.

Which means that when Connor asks questions ( _targeted questions, wrapped around compliments, and Oliver stutters his way through the shock waves of both, and he's starting to get the idea that this man was not from the bank across the street, but who the hell cares when he looks like that_ ), Oliver answers.  And when Connor asks him if he wants to get out of here, Oliver doesn't even hesitate, just flashes a thumbs up at the group of guys that were watching the two of them and pretending not to.

( _Not- and he wants to be clear here- not that Oliver thought they were actually going to do anything.  He didn't really even expect them to make it to the apartment.  He thought they would share a cab, and Oliver would ask a bunch more of indirect but still pointed questions about the office and the secretary and whether or not, in Oliver's well informed opinion as the department IT guy, he thought that she did it.  And then Oliver fully expected Connor to fake a phone call or make some excuse while they were standing on the sidewalk and Oliver fumbled for the keys, and Oliver wouldn't be angry or disappointed, because Oliver is a gentleman and does not think that Connor owes him anything.  It wasn't like he thought that they were doing some business transaction.  Honestly, he's not even sure if he wants to make it to the apartment- he just knows that he wants this moment, where he could flash a grin over his shoulder at his work buddies with a beautiful man on his arm and be able to go in the next morning and listen to the obligatory morning after jokes they make whenever one of them manages to hook up with someone (_ and until this moment, none of those jokes had ever applied to Oliver),  _and he really doesn't even care if he was lying about it when he tells them that Connor had spent the night.  It's not like he was ever going to see him again, unless someone else happens to get murdered._ )

It sort of happens like he expects it to.  There's the cab ride, with Connor's hand inching up his leg and grinning when Oliver bats it away and hisses about being in public, and there is, unsuprsingly, the questions about the murder how long they had been dating, did they think the wife knew, was it serious, was it a fling.  They make it to the apartment, and Oliver does fumble with his keys, enough that he can feel Connor tensing beside him, but- there's no phone call.  No excuse.  Just the sound of the fence grating on the sidewalk and Oliver's own breathing as they ride up in the elevator, at which point Connor seems to have forgotten that Oliver had said not to try anything until they were behind locked doors and kisses him.

"I have to tell you," Connor says, and Oliver just sort of laughs.  It's not loud, but with how close they are, he's pretty sure that Connor could hear.  And it's not funny- it was just so predictable.  "I'm not who you think I am."

"I know."  He wasn't that upset about it, but to be fair, Oliver still thinks it is going to be the normal kind of disappointing, something like  _I've got a boyfriend or two_ or maybe  _I'm in the middle of a bit of a gay crisis and this is just an experiment, just thought you should know,_ both of which have happened before.  "I kind of got that, with all the questions about he murder.  What, you a reporter?"

Which, now that Oliver thinks about it, would be terrible and would also make it horribly illegal for him to have spilled the beans about the murder to him.

But what he really says is much worse.

"Lawyer." There's a business card being shoved into his hand and Oliver desperately wishes that Connor had done this in the elevator, because it is so much more embarrassing to send him away not that they're in the apartment and it had been clear how far Oliver had been willing to go.  "Working under defense attorney Annalise Keating."

"You're pretty young," Oliver starts, voice strangled, "to be a lawyer."

"Intern."  Connor has the good grace to look sheepish, just a flicker of it over his face, but when that's done, there's no sign that he feels even a bit sorry.  "I'm one of her students.  But still," He must have seen Oliver deflate, the relief over his face, and Connor puts his hand against the door when Oliver tries to open it again.  If he hadn't looked so desperate, Oliver might have been a bit more earnest to get him out of the apartment, but as it was- Connor was the one who was scared.  He had either never done this before or he needed whatever information Oliver had very badly.  "You told me a lot of things you weren't supposed to tonight, so what's one more little favor?  For me?"

Oliver doesn't answer as fast as he should.  Doesn't throw him out of the apartment either.  He doesn't know why.  Oliver never had been one to get distracted by a pretty face.

"I don't even know you," He says first, moving away from him.  Oliver goes to the kitchen and Connor follows like he thinks he owns the place.  "And besides, everything I had to say I already told you."

 _That's how desperate I was to make you like me,_ he thinks and doesn't say it, but Connor probably already knows.   _I threw all my cards on the table in the first twenty minutes._

"But you can find me something."  He's flirting. Not flirting, Oliver corrects himself- leering, and Oliver bristles, and hates himself for the fact that he was still standing there, acting like he had no problem with someone using him to get information.

"I can't-,"

"You can.  I knew who you were the moment I walked in.  I came there for you," And that, okay, not the context that Oliver wanted to hear that kind of thing, but Connor had just dropped a very good line and seemed to know it.  Oliver's not sure where Connor found him, but  _low self esteem issues_ seemed to be the center of everything he'd done tonight.  Oliver blamed the shirt he was wearing.  He always did think it made it seem like he was trying too hard.  "You're on the website.  IT guy.  Head of IT.  Figured that if anyone was going to be able to get me what I need," And with the way he said need, it doesn't sound like he's talking about computers, but even Oliver isn't stupid enough to let himself get distracted by that.  "It'd be you."

Oliver doesn't say anything.

Connor waits.

"It's only a few emails."  Connor raises his hands up like he's surrendering.  Oliver feels like he's the one giving in.  "That's it.  What harm could they do?"

A lot.  Oliver knows that they can do a lot of harm, but-, "You need me to get emails?"  He says it slowly, like he's still thinking about it, but he's already thinking about where he left his computer.  And also that Connor was hot.  And maybe that it was a long time since he'd gotten to do a job like this instead of helping middle aged marketing managers figure out how to unfreeze their computer screens or telling them for the hundredth time not to click on a porno ad, and Oliver was hit with the acknowledgment of just how  _bored_ he was there, and this, at least, was going to be anything but boring.  His mother always said he was too smart for his own good.  "Legally?"

"If it was legal," Connor said, and somehow he had found Oliver's computer from the stack of newspapers on the counter and pushes it over to him, and for a wild moment, Oliver wonders how he had known, if maybe he had been watching him, but then comes to the more sane conclusion that the corner had just been peeking up from underneath the papers.  "I probably wouldn't have needed to come to you, would I?"

"No," Oliver agrees, and boots his computer up. Connor tries to kiss him again and Oliver pushes him away, motions to the couch on the other side of the room.  "But it's going to cost you."

He expects Connor to say something to that, something crude or full of snark, but he doesn't, just watches, like he knows that even if he walked out right now, Oliver would still have the emails to him by morning, because Connor had walked into the room and seen what Oliver had been denying for months- he was bored, and he was  _good,_ at least at this, and he knows himself well enough to recognize that those are two dangerous combinations.

 

( _I thought you just wanted the emails,_ Oliver manages to say, later, after he had found the account and spun his computer around face Connor, and Connor had given a surprised whoop in a startling abandonment of composure before he lunged across the coffee table to kiss Oliver, knocking all the books off the table and pressing Oliver down onto the cushions before one of them had the good sense to stop and print the emails up.  Oliver doesn't know which one of them did it- he was too distracted to remember.

 _I did.  I wanted this, too,_ Connor answers, and Oliver is so screwed, he knows, screws and stupid and pathetic and an idiot and he totally fell for this just because of Connor's face, but at least he wouldn't have to lie the next morning when he walks into the office and the guys leer at him about how his night went.   _I want you._

He can't help but think that Connor sounds just as surprise at the words as Oliver feels.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on Instagram @olive.writes.fanfic


End file.
